


Bedroom Hymns

by difficultheart



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Mild Kink, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2698511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/difficultheart/pseuds/difficultheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Lavellan worships her Creators; Cullen worships his Maker. But in the bedroom, he finds a new kind of faith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedroom Hymns

**Author's Note:**

> I have a really big weakness for men who treat their women like they're borderline divine, and I also have a weakness for Chantry boys. Pure shameless smut with very mild kink in it. Because I like men on their knees, and Cullen strikes me as the kind of guy who would really like being dominated and controlled in bed.
> 
> this is also not the best thing i've ever written but i just desperately needed to write some smut for these two.

Cullen had always considered himself a devout man. He had firm faith in the Maker and his plans, and had been unwavering in taking his vows as a Templar. When he wasn't in the war room or overseeing the troops, he was praying at the feet of the statue of Andraste in their little makeshift Chantry. There, on his knees, he felt safe and secure in his faith, knowing that there was some higher power guiding his steps and watching over him.

But on his knees in front of Branwyn Lavellan, he found a new kind of faith. Cullen found himself worshipping her, his head between her thighs and her nails digging into his scalp. Her moans and cries sounded like hymns, and he found himself falling before her over and over, just as eager to please her as she was to be pleased by him. Afterwards, as he sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth and chin clean, she would praise him, kissing him over and over and complimenting his clever tongue and sinful lips. Although she often asked if he truly enjoyed tasting her, Cullen assured her over and over that he found immense pleasure in it. It felt good to kneel before her and make her scream, to feel her grasping at his hair and shoulders as if he was the only thing anchoring him to the earth. He often found himself fantasizing about her thighs squeezing around his head, and how she would taste when he first dipped his tongue between her folds, Josephine and Leliana always picking up on his distracted state and teasing him mercilessly about it. Until he met Branwyn, Cullen had always been dominant during sex. But he quickly found that being beneath her and taking her orders brought him much more pleasure. 

One night, she pulled him back up when he began to kiss his way down her body, her long, slender fingers tangled in his hair. Silver-blue eyes dark with lust, she brushed a finger over his cheek as she spoke, he breathing heavy. 

"Not tonight. I want to try something... different tonight," Branwyn said, hesitation in her voice. Despite how vocal she was and how demanding she could be in bed, the Dalish woman was no more experienced in sex than Cullen was, most of her own encounters having been fumbling and drunken in the dark as a teenager. His heart beat painfully fast in his chest at the sight of her under him, freckles more prominent on her blushing cheeks, her dark hair splayed across his pillows. 

"Mm. What would you like to try, darling?" Cullen nipped at her sharp collarbones, his fingers tightening their grip on her waist as he heard her sharp intake of breath. 

"You might find it a bit... well, a bit blasphemous, Cullen." She shrank under his gaze when he raised his eyes to look at her, lips pausing in their trail down towards her chest. He quirked an eyebrow, and she let out a soft sigh, her blush travelling all the way up to the tips of her ears. "Well, sometimes when you, um... taste me, you let out these little prayers afterwards. And I was wondering if you could, maybe..." Taking a deep breath, she let it all out in a rush. "Maybe you could pray to me and give me offerings tonight when you fucked me."

Eyes widening, Cullen remained silent for a while, propping himself up on his elbows and looking down at her. For a few brief moments, Branwyn wondered if perhaps he was going to kick her out of his bed. She still knew so little about the Chantry and their beliefs, and she was almost certain that what she was asking of him was too much. But as she opened her mouth to apologize and ask him to forget she had even said anything, he kissed her, long and deep and drawing a keening moan from her.

"Of course, my lady," he murmured, his voice a deep, rasping growl against her lips. A shiver travelled down her spine, and she clutched at his broad, muscular back, fingers digging into his skin. "What offering shall I give you tonight? Perhaps my tongue? What would please you?"

At this point, Branwyn was so turned on that she could have sworn one more word from his lips would have sent her straight to the brink of an orgasm. Her chest rising and falling with rapid, heaving breaths, she arched up from the bed, pressing her body against his and relishing the long groan that escaped his lips. 

"Just give me all of you. Pray to me as you do. Fill me, love me, fuck me." Her voice was little more than a desperate gasp at this point, her body trying to press every inch of skin against his, her soft curves to his hard angles. 

More than happy to give her what she wanted, Cullen entered her, watching her face closely. She winced at first with the stretch, but she was soon pressing her hips up against his, words tumbling out of her mouth without any real purpose or direction. He drove into her, gentle and soft at first, whispering quietly into her neck, sweet nothings against her flushed skin. But she dug her fingers into his hips, her nails drawing blood as she cried out in frustration.

"Fuck me, Cullen. Fuck me hard, and like you mean it." 

That was all he needed, his hips soon pistoning violently into hers, his hands gripping the headboard behind her hard enough that the wood groaned in protest. All the time, prayers fell from his lips, his eyes zeroed in on hers. He prayed to her hips, her thighs, her lips. He prayed that she would continue to love him, to satisfy him, to grip him like that, oh Maker yes, just like that. Sweet blasphemous things fell from his lips, filth that she would never have imagined would even cross the stoic commander's mind. He gripped her breasts, her hips, threw one of her legs over his hip to drive deeper and harder into her. All too soon it was over, and she was shattering around him with screams that tore at her throat and left her chest aching. His fingers dug into her skin hard enough to bruise, and he buried his face in her chest as he reached his own climax, spending himself inside her. A small whimper left her as he shifted his hips slightly, still inside her even as he softened. 

An embarrassed laugh echoed through his chest and into hers as he collapsed on top of her, hair ticking her throat and chin. 

"I have to admit, Lady Inquisitor, I never would have imagined that I would say such blasphemous things with such joy." And Creators preserve her, he had been quite enthusiastic in his blasphemy. She would be feeling it tomorrow morning, all through her diplomatic meetings. She laughed as well, wrapping her arms around him and letting him turn them so that she was sprawled on top of him. "I'm sure that somewhere, my mother's ears are burning."

Laughing harder, Branwyn rested her cheek on his chest, reveling in the feel of his heart beating against her flushed skin. Curling on top of him like a large, content cat, she hummed in agreement and traced a light scar he had on his left side, no doubt from a skirmish long ago. 

"I would hope your mother would never know about the filthy things I do to you, commander," she mumbled, enjoying the feeling of his fingers tracing small circles on the small of her back. "But I must admit, I think having you pray to me like that will become dangerously addicting."

The combination of the flush on his face and the nervous giggle that escaped him was enough to keep her happy for days.


End file.
